


Spiders

by Hobbotch



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Childhood Memories, F/M, Headcanon, Nightmares, Spiders, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:10:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbotch/pseuds/Hobbotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My headcanon for Lavellan's fear of spiders and shamelessly using it to build upon my Lavellan/Solas relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiders

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place post Adamant/first romance scene, but pre Winter Palace/second romance scene.
> 
> Elven Translations (Thanks to DragonAge.Wikia authors):
> 
> ma serannas - my thanks (thank you)  
> lethallan - casual reference for a woman you are familiar with  
> fenedhis - common curse  
> vallaslin - blood writing (facial tattoo worn by Dalish elves)
> 
> The amazing rich world of Thedas and characters who feel so real and human you cry over them belong to Bioware.

“Euck! Giant spider bits,” Sera exclaimed as she held the hem of her tunic out towards the Inquisitor. Lavellan gave an involuntary shudder trying to not think about the creepy crawlies the party had just finished clearing from the cave. They ventured to the Storm Coast to get rid of the darkspawn roaming the area and seal any passageways the blighted creatures might be using to reach the surface. Of course, giant spiders had also been nesting in the caves and Sera took advantage of circumstance to tease the mighty Inquisitor Lavellan about her arachnophobia. In the last cave they cleared, Sera had grabbed one of the dismembered spider legs, snuck behind Lavellan, and tapped her on the shoulder with it. When she turned, she jumped a foot, and yelped so loudly Solas and Blackwall had come running convinced she was under attack. Sera practically turned purple from laughing so hard while choking out something about how, "It's all good. Inquisitor's fear is great. Makes her more like the little people."

“I am amazed you are able to discern what is spider from the multitude of other stains,” remarked Solas.

“Pppbbthh. Like you can talk, unwashed apostate hobo,” Sera quipped back.

“Are the three of you going to stand around arguing all day or can we maybe head back to camp. Would like to reach it before nightfall,” shouted Blackwall, already heading out of the cave into the pouring rain towards the road.

“Blackwall is right. This was the last spot Cullen marked on the map and I've had enough dark caves,” Lavellan said trotting after him, certain the pair of elves would follow along.

It had rained nonstop since they had arrived, completely soaking the quartet as they traveled. Though calling it traveling was being generous, Lavellan felt it was more akin to herding cats. She knew she would be facing darkspawn, so she did the smart thing, and brought along the Inquisition's resident Gray Warden. But he insisted on visiting out of the way, deserted Warden camps that she had already investigated on an earlier excursion to the Coast. After wasting most of the morning humoring him, she put her foot down. They didn't have the time to visit any more, however that didn't stop Blackwall from grumbling constantly about nearby camps and attempting to veer the group closer to them.

Blackwall and Sera had developed a quick friendship, making her an easy addition to the party. Bringing Solas was a more selfish decision. Lavellan wanted a second mage around, someone to help with the magical heavy lifting they needed to seal the caves. There was also the security of having someone to split healing and support duty. Blackwall and Sera's relationship with Vivienne was hostile at best. Dorian was always good company, but he wasn't interested in a stroll through constant rain after she had dragged him through a mire. Solas and Blackwall got along well enough but he and Sera would bicker, like they had been, but Lavellan was certain could bear it, since it involved her enjoying the company of her fellow elven apostate. The kiss they had shared in the Fade also lingered in the back of her mind. She hoped that spending time together would speed up his decision on whether he wanted to pursue anything further without coming across as pressuring. But she was wrong, after listening to the two argue for the last few days and having to give Sera a lecture about putting small animals in Solas' bedroll, Lavellan was wishing she had forced Dorian to come along. At least they were almost done. Tomorrow morning the party would be traveling back to Skyhold.

“Anyone else hear that?” Solas asked just loud enough for the group to hear him. The others shook their heads, but stopped to try to hear whatever the mage had.

Lavellan strained her ears, but didn't hear anything through the splattering of raindrops, instead she felt a light vibration on her skin like a hum, similar to the feel of magic or “Lyrium?”

Solas nodded, “I heard talking.”

“The scouts did say Red Templars had been spotted in the area,” added Blackwall as he loosen his shield from his back and unsheathed his sword. Sera quickly inspected her bow and nocked an arrow. The two mages held their staffs ready, preparing to draw on the Fade as the group crept towards the area Solas indicated. Sure enough they came upon a small Red Templar camp complete with sheared spires of red lyrium.

“What do you see with your fancy elf eyes?” whispered Blackwall.

“Pair of Knights, a Horror, and one...two Shadows,” Sera reported.

“One of your Knights is a Horror. I did not see a second Shadow,” Solas corrected. Sera snorted in response. Lavellan prayed the imminent battle would hamper their disagreement turning into another fight.

“Blackwall, the Knights are yours and anything else you can convince to stick to you. We will focus on taking down the Horrors and I'll try to freeze the Shadow. Sera if you can shatter it, do it. But I want those Horrors gone.” They nodded in understanding. Sera immediately took off to a small outcropping overlooking the camp, that would allow her to flank the Templars once engaged and gave her bow a slight height advantage. Once their archer signaled she was ready, Blackwall raised his shield and charged forward. The mages stayed a few steps behind him, to maintain range yet still remain well away from the fray. Lavellan erupted in goosebumps as she started drawing on her magic, focusing it into an ice spell.

Blackwall smashed into a Knight knocking the Red Templar off his feet. The pair of Horrors shrieked and fired spikes of red lyrium growing from their backs. Blackwall's shield was already up and blocked the projectiles, just as Solas lay a protective barrier over the Warden. Lavellan's attention, however, was solely locked on the Shadow she spotted and blasted it with a shower of ice and cold. Her spell was enough to slow not freeze. She cursed watching the Shadow prepare to vanish from sight. She needed another ice spell now but as she scrambled to form one, she knew she wouldn't finish before the Shadow disappeared. Smoke and shadow enveloped it just as ice and frost did and this time the Shadow did freeze solid.

“Ma seranna, Solas,” Lavellan sighed as Sera's arrow shattered the Shadow into dozens of ice chunks. The three ranged attackers redirected their efforts on a Horror as it continued to spit lyrium at Blackwall and managed to quickly bring it down. The other Horror however caught on to the diversion and started firing towards Sera's perch. Blackwall was too busy trading steel with the Knight to be any sort of threat to the Horror, so Solas moved off to the right in Sera's direction to offer support while she dodged and evaded. Lavellan quickly reapplied the protective barrier to Blackwall then focused completely on bringing down the Horror before it could hit Sera with its red lyrium spikes. She gathered her magic and willed it into another ice spell. If she could just slow the Horror, those few seconds would get them off defense and allowing time to counterattack together. The Horror wouldn't stand a chance.

Instead Lavellan cried out in surprise from blinding, hot pain lacing up the left side of her body. On pure adrenaline and muscle memory she spun imparting momentum to her staff as she swept it in a wide circle behind her knocking the rogue's knees out from under it and finished by launching the half formed ice spell she barely held together at the Shadow. Luck was on her side as the ice entombed it. With the immediate danger contained, she let out her breath not realizing she had been holding it. Her whole body shook and her legs gave out as her side throbbed in agony from the stab wounds. The adrenaline rush was leaving her system. Her head felt fuzzy, her body leaden. She collapsed to her hands and knees. Her left hand dug into her side, the pressure helping the agony rippling through her. Lavellan tried to still her mind, disconnect from pain, concentrate on healing the wounds, but it was too much.

The frozen Shadow in front of her exploded in a shower of ice and gore, bringing her senses back to the fight. Lavellan was suddenly aware of Solas standing protectively over her. The look in his eyes took her back. His usual calm and control was replaced with fury and fear. He applied a barrier to her then shifted back to Sera and the Horror she kited. Blackwall finally finished off the Knight and slammed into the Horror recapturing its ire. Without it harrying Sera and an urgency to help the Inquisitor, the trio quickly fell the last Red Templar.

“Lethallan,” Solas sighed as he crouched down to check on her. His face softening as he regained his composure. “Are you alright?”

“I've been better,” she replied jokingly, trying to hide the shake in her voice. A slight smirk spread on his face as his fingers immediately fumbled with the knot on the sash wrapped around her midsection.

“Is she okay?” demanded Blackwall, his armor jangling as he jogged up to downed Inquisitor.

“I'm fine, just a flesh wound,” again trying to lighten the mood and ease her companion’s worries.

“Fenedhis, I owe you a sash,” Solas cursed. Giving up on untying the knots, he pulled out a small blade and cut the fabric. The pale green silk, almost half stained brown from blood, unraveled and fell away sending new waves of agony coursing along Lavellan's side and back. The pressure from the tightly wound cloth had been stemming the pain and blood loss, but also masking the feeling of something in the wound. The realization chilled her.

“The blade broke.”

Blackwall and Solas' faces paled.

“We have to remove the red lyrium now,” demanding Blackwall, hovering over Solas as if his presence could somehow help heal her faster. Solas' fingers were far smoother at undoing the dozen of clasps on Lavellan's shirt, as he worked to remove her light armor. He peeled the soaked shirt from her back revealing two angry stab wounds, one just above the left side of the small of her back, the other sightly lower on her side. The rain was finally useful, washing away blood and dirt from the gashes. Solas gestured for Blackwall to help gently lower Lavellan to a laying position on her uninjured side, and methodically started palpating the injured area, physically and magically, trying to find the broken lyrium blade. She took a sharp breath trying to control the feeling of needles being shoved into her back as Solas poked and prodded her tender skin.

“Here,” he mumbled once he felt the ridged lump under her skin. “I will do what I can but this will hurt.”

“I'll be fine. Receiving my vallaslin was far more painful, and I didn't dare cry out during that.” Her voice fluttery,her breaths quickening.

“Yes. Of course,” Solas replied with thinly veiled agitation. His eyes went out of focus momentarily as his mind connected with the Fade. He drew on a spirit of Compassion to dampen the Inquisitor's pain. Her body relaxed almost immediately and she let out a sigh of relief. He merely hoped the spirit was strong enough to control the pain until he finished treating the injury. Carefully, he took his small knife and cut perpendicular to the wound harboring the lyrium shard, widening it just enough. He slowly slid the shard out of Lavellan and onto her sheared sash, careful to not touch the dangerous substance. He felt around the stab wounds again, ensuring he didn't feel any other pieces. Healing red lyrium into the wound would be a bad thing, a very bad thing.

“Was that the only piece?”

“As far as I can tell,” she replied. Her skin was turning ashen, she was bleeding a lot.

He nodded, placing his hands over her injured side. Soft, white green light haloed his hands as Solas sent waves of creation magic into her battered body, knitting the cuts closed until weariness overtook him. He thanked the compassion spirit, sending it back across the Veil. The sudden return of pain caused Lavellan to shutter, her breath quickened, and eyes hardened.

“Only a little longer,” he reassured her with a slight squeeze of her hand. Solas then pulled off the rucksack he always had with him and started rummaging through it.

Blackwall looked at Solas questioningly. “Finished?” his voice carried a hint of contempt. “Because to me it looks like she is still hurt.”

“Mages are not limitless fonts of magic,” sneered Solas as he pulled out a small pouch and a bundle of elfroot leaves the group had gathered during their travels. “After a dozen or so skirmishes, moving heavy boulders to seal tunnels, I am wearing thin.” He poured a dry mix of herbs into one of the elfroot leaves, using it as a bowl to combine the herbs with water into a thick paste. He smeared the paste evenly over the leaf's surface then applied it to her back, then immediately made another for the wound on her side. “This poultice will help heal and ease the pain.” he said putting the items back in his pack while pulling out a few strips of linen bandages. “I need to secure it, then we can continue to the nearest Inquisition camp.”

Blackwall gingerly helped Lavellan back into a sitting position. Her back still throbbed but whatever was in Solas' medicine was starting to lessen the pain. Solas quickly wrapped the bandages tightly around her, the pressure helping ease the throbbing ache further.

“All done then?” asked Blackwall, Solas nodded. “Thank the Maker. Let's get going. Sooner we are at camp the better.” He ducked under Lavellan's right arm and helped her stand. She winced but was able to stay upright, even walk, well shuffle. But she was truly grateful when Solas gave her back her staff to lean on, and put her sodden shirt and ruined leather jacket over her shoulders. She fastened a few clasps trying for some modesty even though her companions had all seen her in just her bra and trousers.

“Good of you to join us, Sera,” Solas said as she stepped out from behind a nearby tree. She was pale and kept looking away from the others.

“Yeah, well, I don't like the whole blood and guts much,” she murmured, the most subdued anyone had ever heard her speak.

“You plucked an arrow from a man's face when we first met,” retorted Solas stowing the rest of the party's discarded items in his sack.

“It's different when it's someone you care about's blood!” shouted Sera, clearly upset and worried. This took Solas back a bit.

“I...yes, very true, I apologize Sera. I was being too harsh.”

“Yes you were, arse. But you fixed the Inquisitor so maybe I can forgive you,” she turned to face Lavellan and gave her a warm smile. “Good to see you back on your feet.”

“Agreed,” replied Lavellan, returning the smile. “And it seems you were right about there being two Shadows.”

“Ha, you should know not to doubt me by now,” her smile turning smug, her usual enthusiasm returning.

“Yeah, yeah. We should go. Seems everyone could use a rest,” Lavellan said rolling her eyes. The party headed back to the road, however, after a few steps, Lavellan wavered. Her head spun and limbs suddenly weak. She collapsed to the cries of worry from her companions.

“I'm just a bit dizzy,” she sighed waving off the offers of help.

“Most likely lightheaded from the loss of blood,” reported Solas.

He ignored her refusal for help, grabbed her hand and helped her back to her feet, then swept her into his arms to her protests of, “Put me down! I'm fine really! I can walk on my own.”

“You couldn't even make it three steps,” intoned Blackwall. “This will be quicker and safer. Though I should do the carrying.”

“Elves are remarkably light,” replied Solas with a slight shrug as if to emphasize his point. “You may carry her things.” For a few moments the two stared at each other, quietly daring the other to back down.

“Maker's balls. Fine. Just don't complain when you can't handle it anymore,” muttered Blackwall seeing Solas wasn't going to relent, and instead picked up her staff.

“Boys and their pissing matches. Come on then. Aren't we trying to get Miss Injured to a healer,” said Sera, walking off ahead, back to the path leading to camp.

Another wave of lightheadedness and fatigue hit Lavellan, she clung to Solas' chest as it passed, realizing she couldn't make it to camp on her under her own power. “Fine. You can carry me, but not like this, like a helpless princess.”

Solas chuckled, “As you wish my stubborn princess.” She growled at him, disgusted by the designation. His smile deepened as he gently put her back on her feet. Solas squatted down in front of her and she wrapped her arms around his neck while he lifted her onto his back, his arms laced around her thighs to hold her aloft. “Better?”

“Much better.” She lay her head on his shoulder, feeling stable and safe.

The group made their way and came upon the Inquisition camp just as the sun was starting to set. Two of the scouts that kept the camp going, feeding the Inquisition information about the area, greeted them.

“Any of you lot a healer?” asked Sera while Solas carried Lavellan to a tent.

“We only have one on the Coast, and she's currently up north tending to a group of soldiers that fell into an ambush. Red Templars are starting to get aggressive out here,” explained one of scouts with a thick Orlesian accent. “But we will send a messenger bird immediately telling her to return. She could be back later this evening, especially for you, Your Worship.” He bowed deeply to Lavellan.

Solas sat her on a the cot within the tent. Lavellan gripped the edges to steady herself. He slipped his pack off and was again digging through it. This time he pulled out a small glass vial filled with dark green liquid.

“Drink,” he said passing it to her. Obediently she downed the potion. “It will help you recover and sleep. You might want to take off your wet clothing. I doubt you want to catch a cold as well. I will find you something to eat, the medicine works best on a full stomach.”

“Here I was starting to think you had everything in that bag of yours,” she teased, her voice still weak with fatigue.

“Heh, well I do carry rations. One must be prepared for any situation when you travel alone. But I am sure the camp has better, fresher food. Additionally, this gives you some privacy to undress.”

“Speaking of which, since you have seen me shirtless, I expect you to return the favor,” she baited.

“Oh? Do you now?” Solas remarked, cocking his eyebrow questioningly. “And do you plan to collect this debt from Blackwall and Sera as well?”

“Perhaps,” was all she replied. He smirked and left her alone in the tent.

Working carefully and slowly she managed to strip off her poor soaked, bloody, torn clothing. Boots were a difficult challenge, dizzy spells striking anytime she lowered her head to untie the laces. Her head felt like it was swimming by the time she rested her battered and exhausted body onto the cot and snuggled into the rough, warm blankets.

By the time Solas pushed through the tent flaps again the potion was overwhelming her, making her eyes heavy. He dropped her belongings at the foot of her cot, then sat beside her.

“I may have overestimated the quality of food, though the scouts assure me they would have prepared far better if they had prior warning of our arrival,” he said while passing her some not quite stale bread and hard cheese. Weakly she took the food and nibbled at it. “Gives me hope breakfast will be marginally better, but perhaps the Inquisition should look into improving its supply rations.” Lavellan hummed in agreement as she slipped into sleep.

* * *

Her legs were burning, but she continued to run, pushing forward, weaving between the trees. She had never seen a forest this dark, and it terrified her. A foot caught on a root or a trip on the uneven terrain, was all the time the giant spider chasing her would need to descend on the small elf. She glanced over her shoulder, it seemed to move like a black wave, swallowing the forest behind her, and it was gaining.

The gigantic spider's mass of eyes and fangs slopped off in a sickening ooze revealing deep auburn hair that matched her own, a long white scar along a forehead standing out against Andruil's vallaslin in black ink, and green eyes with flecks of silver that seemed to bore through her with hate. Nehnis. Her stomach turned into knots as she tore her eyes back to ground before her, trying to ignore the fact that the spider nipping at her heels wore her brother's face. She just needed to get out of this damned forest, this darkness.

“Are you afraid?” taunted the Spider Nehnis, “Still just a da'len running to cower behind mother's skirts, as if she would let you”

“Of course. Of course you can also mimic his voice perfectly and use his words. But that wasn't true. not then, not now. It couldn't be,” she muttered. But that didn't stop the tightness in her chest that threatened to turn into tears.

“You're so weak. You'll never be able to lead the clan.” continued her brother's voice. She did all she could, push forward harder, desperately try to escape.

“You are an embarrassment, not my daughter.” That voice, it was her father's, but she was too afraid to turn around, to see if the spider wore him, to see the disappointment he wore that night.

“You are a curse upon this clan.” The last words her father ever spoke to her. Tears spilled down her face, she couldn't contain them any longer. Sobs stole her breath, her heart ached, and she knew she was slowing, the spider, her brother, her father, were gaining.

“Why doesn't this forest end!” she screamed in frustration.

Her lower back was suddenly on fire. A glance over her shoulder, stilled her heart. Sickly green venom raced down the spider fangs stabbed into her. She cried out in fear and pain, scrambled forward, losing her balance and falling to her hands and knees. She turned to face the beast as it charged.

“Stay away!” she shouted, unconsciously shooting a ball of fire at its head. But as it impacted the spider let out a cry of pain that sounded like a young man. The fire and smoke cleared to reveal the burned face of a young elven boy.

“Eadric?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

The boy was terrified, his eyes wild. “You..you're evil. Magic is a sin. All it does is destroy.” So much sorrow and fear.

“No. I..I'm so sorry Eadric,” She stuttered as she tried to explain, to apologize. “It. It was an accident. I didn't know. I swear I didn't.” But it wasn't enough, could never be enough. Her tears blurred the burns covering the left side of his face. She backed away from her greatest regret, until her back hit something solid. She turned to look for an escape, any way out, but instead of the tree she expected, a great black shaggy wolf peered down at her through six burning eyes. She let out an uneasy breath, but actually felt calmer facing the wolf. Finally he had come for her. She resigned herself to whatever fate he could dream up for her. It couldn't be worse than the guilt and remorse pressing down on her. She just prayed he devoured her soul before the spider crashed down upon her.

* * *

 Lavellan startled. She looked around the brightly lit room, still shaking and crying from the confrontation in the dark forest. It took a moment for her to realize she was sitting on one of the couches in the rotunda of Skyhold. Knowing she was safe behind Skyhold's walls calmed her, after several minutes she was able to control her shaking and stem her tears.

“You were having a nightmare.” Her head whipped to her left in surprise. Solas sat beside her, sideways on the couch, back lending against the arm. Lavellan quickly looked away, wiping the tears from her face. Heat twinged her cheeks from embarrassment, feeling self-conscience that someone had seen her cry over a bad dream. She shifted uncomfortably which caused a sharp pain in her back, where the spider's fang had ripped into her. But the spider's bite was only a part of her dream.

“This is the Fade,” she whispered with sudden recognition, the events in the Storm Coast flooding back to her.

“You figured it out far quicker this time. You were thrashing about, crying,” he leaned forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Your nightmare was agitating your injury. You needed to wake up, however, you need to rest, to heal. I decided to compromise. How are you feeling?”

“I'm okay,” Lavellan replied automatically, staring at the floor.

Solas leaned back against the arm of the couch. “May I ask what you were dreaming about?”

“Just a memory turned nightmare.”

“Many suffer from those,” he said with enough resignation she was sure he was speaking of himself. “I didn't mean to intrude on your personal thoughts but I did see flashes of your dream, spiders and darkness. You said the fearlings in the Nightmare's realm also appeared as spiders to you?”

She nodded. “You know I don't have the best relationship with spiders.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb over her fingernails, like one would a worry stone. “I guess,” she trailed off conflicted about sharing this piece of her.

“You don't have to answer. I merely thought talking might help.” She finally looked up from the floor, the sincere concern in his face shot a warm fuzzy feeling through her, reminding her of the last time they meet in the Fade.

“You've shared many of your stories and explorations. I suppose I could share why I hate spiders.”

“I would love to hear your story.”

“Okay,” she said with a heavy sigh, “I doubt it will be as eloquent as yours are, but I'll try not to drone on.” She winked.

“You wound me, lethallan. Tedious storyteller is a mantle I have carefully crafted and you are stalling,” he replied with a smirk. She returned it with her own wicked smile, the lines of her vallaslin curling around her eyes. The smile that drove him crazy.

“Well, I was a child. My clan stopped to camp near elven ruins. We would always do this, stop at any ruins we found. Didn't matter how picked clean they were. We were certain we could find something overlooked, something the humans wouldn't think of as valuable, something that would shine light on our history and only we could understand.” She scoffed thinking back on the arrogance. “However, these ruins were only accessible by going through a cave and the Keeper had declared it too dangerous. Only the Keeper and our best hunters would be allowed. My brother-”

“You have siblings?” Solas interrupted

She nodded, “An older brother, Nehnis. He had just become an apprentice hunter, a very good apprentice. Which didn't help his ego. He was a lot like your description of your youth: cocky, hot-blooded, thought he knew everything,”

“A common problem for young men,” he chuckled.

“Too bad he never outgrew it. Naturally he was angry he was excluded from the cave, after all, he could 'out shoot half those old geezers blindfolded.' He and his friends decided to sneak into the cave one night. I found out and well, being a stupid kid, wanted to tag along. I should have told the Keeper,” the levity left her voice. “We all slipped out of camp. It was so dark and scary. I wanted to turn back before we even reached the cave, but my brother and his friends teased me. They called me weak, flat-ear. They goaded me into continuing and even dared me to enter the cave alone. I felt I had to. I had to prove I was brave, a true elf.” She forced out a bitter laugh, “Maybe being a cocky, know it all is just an elf thing.”

“I was terrified, but had to show my brother he was wrong. So I crept in alone, trying to be silent. And as I went, I was certain I saw shadows move. I desperately wished for a light. I should have turned around,but my pride was greater than my fear so I continued, until something jumped out right before me. I screamed certain I was about to die, only it just stood there laughing. It was my brother and his friends. It was all a prank. A prank that disturbed a nest of giant spiders that quickly attacked us. My brother blamed me. Told the Keeper I had snuck out and they were just following me to bring me back. That my screams woke the spiders. That I was the reason they had been hurt, almost killed. Nehnis and another were sick for a week from the venom, another broke his arm...and my brother's best friend suffered...burns.”

“Burns? From a spider?” Solas questioned. Lavellan looked back down at the floor. It took several moments for her to resume the tale.

“From me,” was her quiet answer. “That was also the night I discovered my magic. Eadric, was his name. His family ran away from an alienage and found my clan. He and my brother became best friends. He was always nice to me too, looked out for me. Nehnis teased that he liked me, but I had heard my mother gossiping one day. Eadric had a little sister. She was killed and that was the reason his family came to us.”

“When the spiders attacked, we ran. I couldn't keep pace, but Eadric stayed behind with me. A spider managed to cut us off from the exit. Eadric cut it down with his broadsword. I just cowered behind him, useless. He turned to help me up. He was reaching out, when I saw the spider get back up. I was terrified and could only stammer, trying to warn Eadric, pointed at it over his shoulder. I remember the tingling feeling, like my arm had fallen asleep when a lance of fire erupted from my outstretched finger. It mostly hit the spider, but also caught Eadric on the left side of his face. He was screaming. I was shocked, panicked. I had never seen magic before, our Keeper rarely performed it in public. I grabbed Eadric, dragged him along, as I ran out of the cave. I prayed I didn't just kill a friend who only showed me kindness, that we would reach the Keeper in time. Thankfully, she was outside the cave when we escaped, we weren't as sneaky as we thought when we left the camp. She managed to heal Eadric, but he will always have a large scar from it,” she touched the shaved part of her scalp. “Here.”

“I'm sorry. No one should have to experience that, discover their magic in such a way,” muttered Solas with regret.

“Sadly, this is the world we live in, and many of the circle mages the Inquisition took in have worse stories. I wasn't beaten or locked in a cell. I just got in trouble.” another bitter laugh, “Probably would have been far more if my parents hadn't basically disowned me.”

“I've heard of Dalish abandoning mages but I thought you were the First for the clan you were born into?” his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“I am First, or was. Deshanna most likely has promoted her Second by now. Anyways, all mages in the clan are apprentice to the Keeper, so after my magic was discovered I expected to spend my time with her, but my parents abandoned me to her care completely. Nehnis only talked to me if he could taunt and tease me. Anytime my mother so much as looked at me she seemed to be on the brink of tears. Father told me I was no longer his, just an embarrassment, then never acknowledged me again. I always wondered if he would love or respect me again when I became Keeper, if I could have proved myself.”

“The Dalish claim they are restoring Elvhen culture, yet your family forsakes you merely because magic runs in your blood, their blood. A gift that was so much a part of us.” His impatience and frustration was palpable. Hoping to diffuse his anger and head off another argument about the Dalish, Lavellan placed a hand on his leg and gave a comforting squeeze.

She said quietly, with a sad smile, “You said, not all clans are like mine, and I guess, I forgave them a long time ago. My father's father, along with several others were killed when a previous First turned into an abomination. It's been hard for the clan to be accepting of mages after losing so many loved ones to one.”

He let out a heavy sigh, the ire leaving his features. “Too much has been lost.”

“I used to think that day was the worst of my life. I hated my magic. I was suddenly a threat to everyone I knew and loved. I hurt an innocent boy who was only trying to save me. I had nightmares for a long time and spiders were always present. I used to blame them, as if a spider could cause someone to become a mage. The bad dreams, the guilt all attached to silly spiders and now I have an irrational fear of them. They are a symbol of when my life went wrong, changed, but honestly, it wasn't all bad. Deshanna became an amazing older sister to me, I am much closer with her than I ever was with my blood relatives, and that is their loss. I can do amazing things because of my magic, and because of it I became my clan's First, was sent to the Conclave, met you, and now even have a true home. Change isn't always bad, no matter how horrible it seems at first.” She leaned back into the couch, relaxing for the first time in the dream. “You're the first person I've told this. Thank you. I am really lucky you stayed, that I got to know you.”

“As am I, lethallan,” he replied, lacing his fingers through hers that still rested on his thigh.

“Sorry I rambled a bit, I know I said a wouldn't drone on,” she teased, trying to distract herself from her burning cheeks. He chuckled, squeezing her fingers tighter. She glanced at him holding her hand, certain she had the stupidest grin plastered on her face. The anchor seemed to glow even brighter than normal.

“I used to pray to the Dread Wolf, gave him offerings,” she suddenly blurted out.

He perked up, “Hmmm?”

“That was a bit random, but talking about all this reminded me. Late at night, after everyone was asleep I would slip away to our statue of Fen'Harel and pray. For years, I begged him to take me away to protect my clan. I rather he devour my soul than a demon turn me into an abomination,” she stared at the light from pulsing magic embedded in her palm. “Maybe he did hear those prays long ago and the anchor is his slow arrow. Seems like something a trickster would do, grant my wish, take me from my clan in such a way that puts them in greater danger from of me.”

“I should check your injury.” Solas' withdrawn voice tore her attention from the mark. He wore usual mask of calm detachment, but his eyes carried a sense of hurt. He untangled his hand from hers, making her heart ache and long for his touch.

“Solas...” she whispered with concern, but he was gone. Already awake and out of the Fade, leaving her alone in the dream he had crafted for her.


End file.
